Connecting with God.

We pray, we plead, we try to live the best life we can; walking in the Master’s footsteps, and yet, that spiritual connection, that certain bond somehow seems elusive.

So elusive that we often begin to doubt ourselves. You know this feeling all too well, I’m sure, yes?

Perhaps we have chosen unwisely? Maybe it is true that, the scriptures are not what they are claimed to be by the faithful?

Perhaps, after all, they are simply the literary ramblings of a few 1st century Jews who knew no better, who were misguided, albeit with good intentions.

But please, brothers and sisters, do not despair. There is hope. Believe me. You need not spend your days in endless discussion with internet fundamentalists as you battle your demons trying to get to the real truth.

No. There is a much simpler way.

An Honest way. One fully deserving of the capital ‘H’, and one that ties in with the Bible and offers evidence, if not outright proof, that at least one of the characters is real. Real and alive in the 21st Century.

So if you really, really, really need to connect with God … then …

The godly Ark. Bringing peace and spiritual succor to the disconnected.

I love it. When you say “We pray, we plead, we try to live the best life we can; walking in the Master’s footsteps, and yet, that spiritual connection, that certain bond somehow seems elusive.” I have to say I don’t have quite that same problem. See my two gods loudly meow out their wish for treats, taps turned on for water, different food in their already full dishes. ( after all it is a cat gods right to be snarky about food, demanding fresh food if it has been down for 15 minutes or out of their sight for 2 minutes. )My two gods have worked hard to train me with both the offering of purring pleasure and the granting of swift biting pain for disobeying. I use to think as a silly secular human my body was my own, but I have learned at the end of the claw that I am to give up my pillow, my clothing is for my gods to lay on , especially if darked colored instead of for me to wear, and I must spend lots of time sitting for them to enjoy the required lap meditation time. They allow me to serve my devotional time to them in combining their fur for them. Also they require me to be at their beck and call regardless of hour or activity I might be engaged in and it is duly enforced by otherwise sitting their butts on my face when I sleep. You haven’t been filled with holiness until you wake up with your cat god squatting over you preparing to place its ass where your nose is currently residing. Occasionally they bless me with a juicy chunk filled vomit normally offered for me to sing praises to on things like my pillow or where I was going to sit down. Yes I am a lucky human to have cat gods. I know this because they tell me so. Daily. Hugs ( save me dog demon, save me )

Does this god do Skype? Without dopamine, people wouldn’t fall for the BS. This is evident with people who have Parkinson’s disease. No dopamine, no god. It’s that simple. Hail dopamine.

“Patients with PD express less interest in religion and report consistently lower scores on measures of religiosity than age-matched controls. Prefrontal dopaminergic networks may support motivational aspects of religiosity.”

Victoria I recall the case of a Lady I visited in an aged care home, in my capacity as a Christian Minister. She would complain that God had abandoned her, she would say ‘I used to feel the presence of God, but I do not any more’.

My suspicion, even then, was that it was all to do with her mind and what she had ‘attributed as being God’ must have been some other feeling.

I often pondered what God’ felt like as two other people would tell that they could feel God with them all the time, this was their proof. I decided not to tackle them on the issue, but even as a Christian Minister I was wary of such claims.

Victoria of late I have been taking note of how my mind deals with unexpected visual stimuli it can’t quite interpret. When I initially see something strange my mind seems to try to make it into a person, but then as I focus my mind realises it is not a person and properly evaluates it as just a clump of bushes or an unusual looking tree or the like. But for an instant there is an effort to interpret it as a person.

I suspect this is some part of the ghost sighting phenomena. The mind seems programmed to identify people, I recall the famous ‘Face on Mars’ saga as an example.

As an aside what always puzzled me with sightings of Jesus and the Virgin Mary is, how does anyone know what they look like? After all neither are described in physical terms in the Bible, so who knows whom they are seeing.

Reminds me of an old Joke:

A kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they drew pictures. Occasionally, she would walk around the room to see each child’s work.

“What are you drawing?” she asked one little girl who was working diligently at her desk.

Jesus and Satan were having an ongoing argument about who was better on his computer. They had been going at it for days, and God was tired of hearing all the bickering. Finally, God said, “Cool it. I am going to set up a test that will take two hours, and I will judge who does the better job.”

So Satan and Jesus sat down at the keyboards and typed away. They moused. They did spreadsheets. They wrote reports. They generated web pages. They prepared faxes. They wrote e-mails. They did some genealogy reports. They made cards. They did every known computer job.

But, ten minutes before the time was up, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, the rain poured and, of course, the electricity went off. Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word known in the underworld. Jesus just sighed. The electricity finally flickered back on, and each of them restarted their computers.

Satan started searching frantically screaming, “It’s gone! It’s all gone! I lost everything when the power went out!” Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all his files from the past two hours. Satan observed this and became even more irate. “Wait! He cheated! How did he do it??!!”

All this time, and I never knew? Dammit! Someone’s gonna pay for this with his butt and it ain’t gonna me.
But God knew all along and the rotten Bugger never told me (I must’ve offended Him somehow). Serves Him right anyway—the Bugger never calls, never writes … and none of His holy Books make any sense so I’ll just wait for the ‘live action replay’.